Chocolate, Salt & Butter
by sevenly
Summary: Larkko one-shot, shortly after the move to L.A.


**Chocolate, Salt & Butter**

**One-Shot**

"How can you say it's laughably unreal?" Langston asked as she looked at Markko in disbelief.

He looked back at her with the same look, "I don't think it's meant to be a tragic comedy, but it is," he explained, giving it more credit than it deserved. They were watching an oldie and arguing over the plot.

"Well, you haven't turned it off yet," Langston pointed out, placing a piece of popcorn in her mouth.

"Only because you'll die if you don't see the end," Markko replied, before taking a sip of his soda.

She giggled silently to herself. This was the second week in a row they had gone back to his apartment after long hours of working on David Vicker's movie. It was coming along great, surprisingly, but at the end of the day, it was nice to think of anything but.

"Wow," Markko sighed disapprovingly, commenting on the clumsy shoot-out scene. He instantly & unconsciously played with three different ideas; ways he would have done it differently. "This is torture." He side-glanced at the brunette, curled up in the corner of the sofa. She had a little smile on her face & seemed to be enjoying the movie. Markko couldn't help but forget he was staring. He told himself to get a grip, but it wasn't that easy.

"Come on, admit it," he finally urged, "I know you see all the flaws I do."

Langston shrugged playfully, "What can I say? It's so bad, it's good."

"It's not even that," he said, wondering what was wrong with his fellow film critic. She hadn't disliked one film they had watched so far, highly unlike her. They had gone through every single one from start to finish.

"Admit it," he said again, playfully.

She gave him two quick glances before returning to the movie, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do."

Langston sighed and threw a piece of popcorn at him, "You're such a freak, Rivera."

He dodged it, and teased, "I'm a what?"

"Shhhh, it's getting good," Langston said, slowly dropping the index finger she had pressed to her mouth.

"Where?" he asked, scooting closer to her, ready to reach for the bowl of popcorn she held in her lap.

"Markko, don't even think about it," she cautioned, noticing the calculated look on his face. His creative mind could only handle so much boredom, and the way he was eyeing the bowl almost gave his plan away.

"I just want some popcorn," he replied innocently with his puppy dog eyes.

She studied him for a few seconds before giving in to that face, and cautiously, offered him the bowl.

He took it, smiled, and grabbed a handful of the delicious buttery treat. He began raising it to his mouth, but stopped, "I can't believe you fell for that," he said with a smile, before throwing the handful at her.

"Markko!" she gasped, trying to get out of the way, but he was already throwing more at her by the handfuls.

Langston wasn't one to lose a battle. She sprang towards him and grabbed her own handful of popcorn to throw. Soon they were wrestling on the couch for the bowl which was quickly emptying out. It left both their hands slathered in butter. Naturally, they decided to wipe the grease on each other's faces. Langston, on top of Markko, was just about to smear some grease across his face when he quickly flipped her over and pinned her on the couch.

Forced to face one another, they quickly recovered from their bouts of laughter, but they were still breathing heavily from the scuffle. It was then they both noticed the physical closeness. Once his breathing calmed and his pulse slowed, Markko took in every inch of her face. There was buttery grease smeared across her forehead with a few strands of her dark brown hair stuck in it. He reached a hand up to gently wipe them away.

Langston breathed in softly as his gaze wandered down to her big brown eyes; still sparkling with mischief, not surprisingly, but also some nervousness. He continued down to her cute little nose and then stopped on her lips, which she slowly parted and licked; not thinking it would drive him crazy. But it must have, because he diverted his gaze right away. That's when he found a piece of popcorn stuck to some strands of hair near her ear, and lowered his head slowly.

The moment she noticed him closing in, her breathing quickened. But he didn't kiss her yet. Instead, he bit into the piece of popcorn in her hair and pulled it out, then chewed and swallowed it slowly. The next thing she felt were his lips kissing her earlobe softly. And then his mouth trailed across her jaw line, causing her eyes to flutter shut. He stopped at her chin, kissed it, and then moved his mouth over hers.

At that moment, her eyes opened to meet his. It was as if he was asking her if all this was okay. All she could manage to do was nod her head a couple of times slowly.

That's all he needed to know. He started off slowly and softly, proving how much he'd missed kissing every inch of her lips. Langston followed his lead. She reached her hands up around his neck, and grazed the back of his hair gently with her fingers. They molded their bodies further together and became comfortably closer. Soon they kissed with more urgency; their mouths tasting like salt and butter from the popcorn. They were making out during a movie, just like old times.

A few minutes later, Markko pulled away slowly but Langston wasn't ready to let that comfort slip away. As if he could sense it, he leaned down and kissed her lips once more before pushing himself off. They straightened up and watched as the credits began to roll.

"I think I know why I've liked every movie," Langston said, grazing her swollen lips.

"To torture me?" Markko teased, still focused on the screen.

Langston turned to him and gave him a playful smile, "Because it's not about the movie," she looked down at her fingernails shyly, "it's about being here, with you. Like old times."

Markko furrowed his eyebrows as he looked over at Langston who was clearly overwhelmed with emotion. Her soft, round eyes reflected the love he longed for. But she felt like she was going to break, so she acted impulsively and stood up in a hurried fashion. "I should go," she said, excusing herself. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Lang, wait…" he called, but she was already out the door, and he didn't want to push her.

* * *

><p>They did their best to act professionally at the studio early next morning. Markko brought his usual calm, grounded presence. His unwavering commitment to each scene at hand was inspiring to Langston, and she clearly had the agreement of all the other females on set. That was the thing about Markko though. He didn't even seem to notice. He was busy focusing on what needed to be done, not thinking of anything else, not even himself. But when lunchtime rolled around, his mind raced back to her.<p>

Langston was sitting on a piano bench, with some notes in her hands, and an adorable, thousand-yard stare on her face. Markko's heart squeezed as he looked on at the dark haired beauty. She was writing in her head when he knowingly interrupted. He apologized, but took her by the hand and led her out into the hallway, where there were fewer people. A slight, attractive blush spread across her freckled cheeks that he couldn't help but notice.

"Hey," he said, the corners of his mouth curving slightly.

Langston figured it was work-related, "Something wrong?"

"Not at all," he replied, "But last night, after you left..."

Langston nodded slowly, she knew they'd have to talk about it. They couldn't just leave what happened alone and never mention it again. They stepped over the boundaries and got too close, too fast, both physically and emotionally. She wanted to be with him again, more than anything. But her old habit crept back up, and she shut down. Markko had been there before; he'd seen it. He couldn't say he had Langston Wilde all figured out, but he was the one closest to it. He wasn't going to give up on her.

"I'm sorry for leaving like that," Langston interrupted, "I was…" she sighed, not knowing how exactly to answer.

Markko ran a hand through his dark hair, and shook his head, "Don't worry. It was just a kiss."

Langston looked up at him with a surprised expression, "Just a kiss? Markko…that was more than a kiss...it was...," she stopped mid sentence, a frown slowly forming on her face.

He hated seeing her down. No matter what they'd been through, she was a big part of his life. The little rebel took a hold of him when they were just kids; back when she first referred to him as freakazoid. And then it turned into more. So much more.

"I didn't mean it like that," Markko said softly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, "of course it was more. It always is with you."

"So...you think we can start over?" she asked hopefully, her brown eyes glistening a little.

"I think we can do anything," he answered, and looked down to take her hand in his. He lifted his face slowly to meet hers and smiled. "And, by the way… you tasted like popcorn."

Langston gave him the widest smile, remembering that warm summer night in August. Except, _that_ involved chocolate, and tons of it. "You really liked it that much?" she asked, getting up the courage to move her face a little closer to his.

"Yeah, I did," Markko replied, his voice coming out sweet and confident. "How about a real date tonight? Just you, me, and L.A."

"I'd like that," Langston nodded. After a small pause, she whispered, _I love you_. And as their faces inched closer, Markko whispered it back, triggering memories for both.

They closed the small space between their lips and kissed while their fingers remained entwined, and it was such a tender kiss that she kept her eyes closed even as he pulled away, much like their very first kiss. It felt perfect, like they had thrown caution to the wind, and knew exactly what they wanted; each other, together again.

* * *

><p>Hope you liked it :)<p> 


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